The rain continued to lash against the pavement, but the cold didn't matter anymore. The heat from Hanbin's kiss was still radiating through my veins, making my head spin more than the fall ever could have. We stood there for a moment in the dark alley, soaked to the bone, staring at each other as if we had just discovered a new element.
"We're right in front of my house," I whispered, my voice trembling—not from the cold, but from the sheer intensity of his gaze. "You're drenched, Hanbin. If you walk home like this, you'll get sick. Come upstairs, get dry, and then go."
For the first time since I'd known him, Hanbin didn't offer a logical counter-argument. He didn't mention the time or his schedule. He simply nodded, his hand still lingering near mine as we navigated the final few steps to the entrance of the restaurant building.
The warmth of the hallway felt like a blessing. We hurried up the stairs, leaving a trail of water behind us. My heart was thumping against my ribs—not just because of the climb, but because I was bringing Jeon Hanbin into my home at 10:30 PM after he had just proposed to me in the rain.
"Doyoon is home," I whispered as I fumbled with the keys. "Uncle is still closing up the restaurant downstairs. Please... act natural."
Hanbin wiped a stray droplet of water from his nose and gave me a look that said, 'I am the king of acting natural.'
As soon as the door opened, Doyoon's voice drifted from the living room. "Noona? Why are you late? It's pouring out—"
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw us. We looked like two drowned rats. My hair was a tangled mess, and Hanbin's hoodie was heavy with water, clinging to his frame.
"Whoa! Hyung?" Doyoon scrambled off the couch. "What happened? Did you guys fall into the Han River?"
"I tripped," I said quickly, avoiding Hanbin's eyes. "Hanbin-ah caught me. He's soaked because of me. Doyoon, go get him some dry clothes. Now."
Doyoon, sensing the urgency (though thankfully not the cause), dashed to his room. "I got you, Hyung! Give me a sec!"
I turned to Hanbin. "The bathroom is through there. There are fresh towels in the cabinet."
"Thanks," he said. Our eyes met for a fleeting second—a silent acknowledgment of the "accident" in the rain—before he disappeared into the bathroom.
A minute later, Doyoon emerged with a stack of clothes. "Here, Hyung! It's my favorite oversized flannel shirt and some joggers. They should fit!" He handed them through a crack in the door, then turned to me with a suspicious squint. "Noona, why is your face so red? Are you catching a fever already?"
"It's just the cold rain, Doyoon! Go... go call Uncle. Tell him Hanbin is here and to bring up some extra food from the restaurant."
I quickly changed into dry sweats in my own room, trying to calm my racing pulse. I stood in front of the mirror, touching my lips. They felt tingly, different. I looked like a different person.
When I walked back into the living room, the bathroom door opened.
I froze.
I had seen Hanbin in hoodies, in lab coats, and even in that formal coat today. But seeing him in Doyoon's clothes was... different. The flannel shirt was slightly snug across his shoulders, and the joggers hung perfectly on his lean frame. He was rubbing his damp hair with a white towel, the dark strands falling messily over his forehead.
Without the sharp lines of his usual black attire, he looked softer, younger, and devastatingly handsome. The steam from the shower had flushed his skin, and his eyes seemed even darker than usual.
I realized I was staring. My mouth was slightly open, and I was just standing there in the middle of the kitchen like a statue.
Hanbin stopped rubbing his hair. He caught my gaze, and for a second, the "Ice Prince" mask slipped. He didn't look away. Instead, he let the towel drape around his neck and gave me a slow, crooked, devastatingly lopsided smirk. It wasn't his usual stoic nod; it was a silent "I see you looking."
My heart did a somersault.
"Is the shirt okay?" I managed to ask, my voice sounding an octave higher than usual.
"It's fine," he said, his voice still raspy from the cold. "A bit colorful for my taste, but it works."
"Hyung! You look like a normal person for once!" Doyoon shouted, reappearing with his phone in hand. He completely missed the electric tension vibrating between Hanbin and me.
"I just talked to Uncle," Doyoon continued, jumping onto the sofa. "He's wrapping things up at the restaurant now. He said he's bringing up the leftover dakgalbi and some fresh rice. He said you're absolutely not allowed to leave until you've had a hot meal, Hyung. No excuses."
Hanbin looked at me, then at Doyoon. The corner of his mouth twitched—a real, genuine hint of a smile. "I wouldn't dream of making an excuse against your uncle's cooking."
Doyoon beamed. "Yes! Dinner with the Hyung! Noona, stop standing there like a ghost and help me set the table!"
As I moved to get the bowls, Hanbin stepped into the kitchen to help. As he passed me, his shoulder brushed mine. It was light, almost accidental, but I felt the heat of it through my sweater.
"You're still staring," he whispered, so low that only I could hear over the sound of Doyoon's rambling.
"I am not," I hissed back, feeling my ears turn bright red.
"Liar," he murmured, his smirk widening just a fraction before he reached for the stacks of plates.
The glitch in the rain had turned into something much more dangerous: a permanent part of my reality. And as the sound of my uncle's footsteps echoed in the hallway coming up from the restaurant, I realized that for the first time, the "system" of our lives was finally, perfectly, in sync.